


A Cold Night And A Colder Decade

by Kaya_mckay, milesawayfromthevoid



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, I can't believe I have to say this but, If any of you fuckers make this romantic I'll put spiders in your oatmeal, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, OCs are cops, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Someone give Grace sole custody in the new timeline because Reggie gave them all, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, i needed to establish that the first timeline fucking sucked, reposted, very delayed comfort on the hurt sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaya_mckay/pseuds/Kaya_mckay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/milesawayfromthevoid/pseuds/milesawayfromthevoid
Summary: Diego's lost enough brothers to know that he doesn't want to deal with the pain anymore. Cutting yourself off from your equally emotionally damaged brother might not be the best solution to that, though.(Note: Kaya_mckay is the original prompter and I highly recommend checking out the other works based off it)





	1. The Longest Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaya_mckay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaya_mckay/gifts), [milesawayfromthevoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milesawayfromthevoid/gifts).



> TW: Klaus is gonna try jumping off a bridge. He doesn't. But if that's going to be a bad for you I'd skip this. Also a mention of another suicide from Beaman's perspective (jumper on one of his first nights on the job) Next chapter involves a non-graphic description of an overdose and the emotional fallout of an attempted suicide, so be warned.  
> I realized last night that I didn't tag this the first time and I'm sorry about that.
> 
>  Also I don't like my title but it was late when I came up with it and now it's too late so oof. 
> 
> I might update on how I feel on this. For now, here it is. Thank you to Kaya_mckay for the prompt!  
> Technically compliant to Klaus' Adventures but I'm not gonna include it in the timeline, treat it as a one-shot in2 chapters.  
>   
> Published at: 2019-03-13  
> Revised at: 2019-03-13 16:27:57 -0400  
> 

Beaman just wanted a slow night tonight. 

He and Patch had just been promoted to detectives and he was just looking for one last, quiet night in the patrol car. 

It started out promising. The most he had to do up until midnight was issue out a few parking tickets and shoo a couple of teenagers loitering outside the library. But of course, right as his shifts about to end, as he's doing one last turn around the bridge, he sees someone run to his car.

“Someone's about to jump!” He says, pointing, and Beaman rushes over to where a small crowd is forming. Right in the epicenter is a skinny guy, pale as a sheet, staring down at the water as he clung to the railing. 

Beaman hated nights with jumpers. Years ago, third night out as a rookie, he had a jumper in nearly that exact spot. When his partner approached, a little too quick, a little too loud, guy panicked and jumped. 

There are some things you never forget. Beaman had that night replay over and over whenever he crossed the bridge. He saw the guy in the smooth brown jacket in the current jumper in a fluffy black coat. 

He looked either high or very out of it, swaying and shaking. People were calling out to him, and too many were getting too close, so while Beaman would have probably just tried to talk him down himself, he needed help getting these people back. He radioed in reinforcements for a junkie jumper and requested Hayes, their crisis mediator. As he heard the radio respond and was pushing people away, he took further stock of the guy. He was about to slowly walk over and try to deescalate the situation himself when one person came closer than the others and called out to him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin and off the bridge. The lady looked like she shocked herself back into the crowd as the guy shimmed further away from it. 

Just as that happened, though, another few squad cars came onto the scene and he got help in holding the crowd back. Barricades were set up and Captain Ortega stopped him from approaching the guy.

“We need to wait for the negotiator,” he said. Beaman looked back at the jumper. 

He went back to talking to himself, turning his head every so often to face nothing and scowl. Eventually, he hoisted himself up into a seating position on the rails, and for a moment Beaman felt hope that he'd just climb over and onto the bridge. But no, he just sat there, like he was trying to regain his nerve. 

Ortega called his attention back for a debrief of the situation. Both kept their gaze over to the guy as he recounted the situation, though, concerned. 

 

Hayes was taking forever, so it was no surprise that Diego showed up before the situation was over. Beaman noticed that he always made himself known at drug related scenes specifically, even if Beaman and Patch were the only people who saw him. He always figured he lost a friend or someone close to drugs, or maybe it had to do with one of his dead brothers. Either way, neither of them really stopped him, not in a way that would deter him, anyway. 

This time, though, Diego was a liability. There was a life on the line, now, and Beaman wasn't about to let a guy die on his watch. 

He met him as he crossed the barricade. 

“Sorry, Diego,” he said, reaching out to put a hand on his chest to slow him down. “This is a delicate situation, just stay --” But Diego was looking at the jumper with growing dread on his face, completely sidestepping Beaman. He didn't stop. 

“That's my brother,” he said, voice faraway in horror. It didn't sound like he was talking to the soon to be detective. “That's my  _ brother _ .”

Beaman looked back at the jumper, who was now staring at the river like it was the last time. That couldn't be: Beaman, like the rest of Argyle, knew about the Umbrella Academy, and Beaman, like the rest of Argyle, knew that three out of six siblings were no longer accounted for. The Boy died at age thirteen, The Horror at age seventeen, and The Séance dropped off the map a few months later. That definitely wasn't Spaceboy on the edge, so what was Diego talking about? And why wasn't he stopping? 

Beaman shook his head. That didn't matter right now: if the guy was related to Diego, then he might stick around a little longer, but that was entirely based on whether Diego wasn't projecting one of his dead brothers onto this jumper. Beaman would trust Diego under any other circumstance, but with how he kept slipping out of Beaman's hold...well, panic was setting in. If Diego was having an episode -- and to be fair, this is the same man running around in leather and throwing knives to stop crime, and who also lost half his siblings, so Beaman couldn't really attest to his mental well-being -- then he was a risk factor. Beaman needed to stop him, even just to get answers.

“Diego, wait,  _ stop _ , you need to--” 

“ _ Number Four _ !” Diego shouted, all desperation, as the jumper slid back into a standing position on the edge, and the jumper immediately flinched closer to the railing. “Number Four,  _ what _ do you think you're doing?!”

Number Four? Wait, The  _ Séance _ ? Beaman thought he died; unlike the other siblings, there wasn't a word of him in years, and Diego always got that look in his eyes whenever anyone brought him up, or any of his dead brothers, really. The look where he was about to cry but locked it down under fifty layers of bad coping mechanisms. 

(“Last I saw him,” Diego said over a study session with him and Patch, “he walked into a shitty bar, promised me had a friend in there.” He cleared his throat and that was it. Beaman always figured...well, bad shit happens in shitty bars.) 

“Beaman, what's going on?” The captain ran over to him, looking horrified at how the situation was escalating. “Did you--”

“He's his brother,” Beaman said, watching Diego stand way too close. “Hayes is stuck across town, I let him. He was there for the crisis management classes.” 

The captain looked between Diego, whose conversation was lost amongst the background noise, and him. Before he could speak, though, the jumper spoke loudly.

“Fuck off, Diego.” Came the jumpers reply on the wind. Both relaxed immensely: jumpers were always the worst cases for Beaman, and this link between him and Diego was the first sign that this night may not end in tragedy. 

“See?” Beaman said. “Definitely someone who knows Diego.”

He and Ortega watched over the scene fifty feet away. Junkie -- or Number Four, he guessed -- was getting closer and closer back to the bridge, Diego was slowly approaching him. 

“...Seven... all three of her favourite siblings are dead? How am I supposed to tell her that?” Beaman could barely hear. 

Four turns his head back to Diego, and the look must be harsh because even Diego falters in his steps. The next bit is impossible to hear, but by the end of it Four's shoulders collapse and Diego is able to take his arm. The crowd cheers, but both of the men in the center of it look like they're about to crack under the scrutiny. Beaman's too tiredly relieved to wonder whether the crowd was sufficiently entertained, just leans against the barricade for a minute. 

He hates nights with jumpers. 

“Alright, people, shows over,” the captain shouts, and people  _ finally _ start to disperse. Diego leads Klaus out of there once enough folks have left, and Beaman comes closer.

“Hey, Diego's brother, right?”

The jumper nods. His eyes are red and puffy, his skin sallow and clinging to his bones, and he's holding himself as defensively as they come. Maybe they're not biologically related, but the challenging look in his eyes whenever someone stares for too long is so reminiscent of Diego Beaman is floored. Four looks like he's trying his hardest to will away Diego's protective arm around his shoulders. He’s shivering into his ridiculous coat.Diego looks absolutely lost the closer he gets, like he's holding onto his brother to prove he isn't a ghost.

“Klaus,” he says, slurred but firm. Beaman gets confirmation about every ugly story of Diego's childhood in how this guy was clearly trying to shake off the fact he was about to jump off a bridge less than ten minutes ago. 

“Klaus,” Beaman says, going for friendly. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” 

“C'mon, Beaman--” Diego starts. His shoulder gets swatted by a hand that says “HELLO” on the palm. 

“Yeah, yeah, no problem,” Klaus says. “'S your job, I get it. Whaddya wanna know?”

“First off, do you have a place to stay for the night?”

“Yeah --” he starts.

“He's staying with me tonight,” Diego cuts in, and Klaus gives him a look like that wasn't his answer. Diego responds with a look that dares a challenge. 

Klaus turns to Beaman instead. “It's been awhile since we've seen each other, is he always like this?” He gives a grin. 

Beaman smiles back faintly, and Klaus must take it as a yes because he gives a triumphant laugh, tipping his head back. It's not enough to make Beaman forget about the circumstances, though. If anything, the clear displays of a messed up psyche only made it worse.

“Well, my plans changed, but,” Klaus shrugs. Beaman sees that his knees are still shaking. “But yeah, I got a place to sleep.”

“Ok, that's good. Do you have a support system in place? People you can count on, in case things get bad again?” 

Klaus smiles wryly at Beaman. Diego looks away. “Yeah, I've got some family in the city. Tonight was just...” he blew a strand of greasy hair out of his eyes. “Bad night, ya'know?”

Beaman nods. Oh yeah, tonight's been bad. 

He follows them to Diego's car, and as soon as Klaus is in Diego turns to him. 

“If you need more for the report, I can…” Diego started, running a hand through his hair. He was shaking now, too. He lets out a quavering breath, and this is the closest Beaman has seen Diego to crying. “I can stop by the station, I-I don't think he'd want to go there.”

“Sure,” Beaman says. He puts a hand on Diego's shoulder. “I think I have enough for a report, but call me anyway, if you get the chance, just let me know how you're doing. Keep an eye on him.” 

Diego nods, claps Beaman on the upper arm, then gets into the car and drives away.

Beaman sighs, and goes to help dismantle the barricade. 


	2. The Shortest Decade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego faces his worst nightmare on the bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: One last time, there's a suicide attempt here. Also discussions of drug use, grief and loss of siblings, very unspoken child neglect from Reggie. Also an overdose, unhealthy coping mechanisms and guilt used against a sibling.
> 
> God this is dark for me. I need realize I left a lot of stuff off the tags and I'm sorry about that.  
> So hey update on how I feel, told ya it was coming.  
> Yea this isn't my finest work, I don't think. I've sorta been in a weird place for a bit, nothing bad just weird. I think I saw the prompt and was like, idk I just sorta spilled a lotta feelings out? and I think it shows in my work, especially in this chapter.  
> Nothing against the prompt, it's a good concept and I'm a sucker for Diego caring about his sibs, even if he doesn't really show it. I just feel like I fumbled it, so I'm not quite satisfied with it. I think I'm gonna keep it up here for now, because I did work decently hard on it and I was proud of it two nights ago, but for now I'm taking a break from super serious topics. My next fic is going to be a Ben and Klaus and nightmares but it's more a "hey what would scare Ben" than "oh God they're in danger," and I've got an idea or two for Allison, and maybe something for Vanya? Idk.  
> Maybe something light for Diego cause God, I feel like I just make him really panicked and angry in my last few stuff and I think there's so much more I haven't checked out yet.  
> Anyway, thanks for coming this far.

 

  
The last time Diego saw Klaus was when they were all seventeen, just about to turn eighteen. Ben had died three months earlier and some part of Klaus went along with him to the other side. (It doesn’t matter that sometimes he’d snicker to himself, or they’d catch him mumbling snippets of a familiar conversation; no, the top three siblings all agreed it must be because he was high, because if any of them would want a peaceful afterlife, it was Ben.)

(And if any of them would walk into the afterlife, away from this Hell, and never look back, it was Five. Klaus could claim he never saw him all he wanted, Vanya could stay up till sunrise with her peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches, he was _dead_.)

    Klaus had looked like shit then. He’d skip missions and day drink, sometimes sneak in late and loudly on nights when the others were supposed to be sleeping. Fuck, Diego once caught him sitting in the rain on the pedestal of Ben’s statue, drinking himself in a stupor. From the distance of the second story window, it was hard to tell whether the hand on Ben’s bronze knee was in somber remembrance or to steady himself from tipping over. The bags under his eyes grew worse and occasionally there were track marks on his arms that Diego really didn’t want to think about. He figured it's the house; it has a way of sapping all joy from a person, and Klaus in particular always did his best to hang on to his happiness. One day, when they all get out of here, they’ll all get better, but till then he didn’t care. He couldn't care.

(If he cares, he has to face everything that was done to them, everything they did to each other, and he doesn't know where to begin with that.)

    He did feel a little twinge of hope, under all that grief at his brothers potential and _life_ being wasted, just before they turned eighteen. When Diego had put all his leftover money from photos and autographs and interviews into a car and a rundown apartment and an entrance fee to a police academy, Klaus had asked for a lift out of there. He looked clear-eyed and sober, cheery as a summer day. Diego almost forgot the darkness hanging over him since Ben's death, since Five's.

    He was chatty the entire car ride, about everything and anything except what he had planned. When Diego brought it up, he was evasive. When did he start getting so evasive?

    “I’ve got a place for tonight, buddy of mine is letting me crash at his place,” he had said. He had flopped back against the passenger seat. “Then after that — _boom_! World’s my oyster! Freedom, baby!”

    Diego had told himself that it was fine. His brother was the same age as him, and an adult, he’d be fine. Besides, even if he wasn’t, Klaus wasn’t Diego’s responsibility. This was how he reasoned driving him to a bar in the middle of the city just as the sun was going down. There was a moment of hesitation that caused Diego to pause before he parked the car.

    “You sure this is the right spot?” he said. “I thought you were rooming with a buddy.”

    “I’m meeting him here for a couple, then we’ll head over,” Klaus had said, then snorted at the look of skepticism on Diego’s face. His grin was genuine. “What’s with the look, brother o' mine? You’ve seen me back from worse. This is practically bingo with the old bats.”

    And then Klaus, with his backpack full of all his worldly possessions, left the car before Diego could answer, even before he took the foot of the pedal and put it in park. Before he had a chance to leave him his contact information, just in case of emergencies. Klaus was probably unable to read the room, if Diego was honest with himself. He probably didn’t see the look of shock and hurt on his face as he turned and waved goodbye, that genuine grin still there.

    No, Diego wasn’t telling himself this to feel better.

    No, he didn’t feel anything other than wasted time as he put the car in reverse and merged back into traffic.

    (No, this moment wasn’t on his mind as he took a silent Klaus to a very different bar, in a different middle of the city, as the sun was rising to noon.)

    So yeah, it’s been awhile. He never gave Klaus a cell number, but he does have a police scanner now, and it’s seen way more use than his Motorola Razor ever did after he left the academy. And he doesn't start off with the intention of keeping up with any drug crime, honestly. It’s just that Klaus is more likely to be missing than the others. Allison had her tabloids, Luther would never leave the house (until he apparently left for the moon, but he’s sure dad would hold a huge memorial service for Number One if something happened to him), Vanya had a Facebook page for her violin school that occasionally had a picture of her. But Klaus might as well be Ben now for how often Diego even hears his name. Fuck, if you counted not checking in with your family, he’s been gone for ten years, ever since he waved goodbye outside a seedy bar. So Diego keeps tabs, sue him. Every time he hears a call about a junkie OD’ing, he works his way to the scene, dread quickening his pace. Every time he hears a call about a drug bust, he’s lurking nearby, watching for a familiar mop of dark hair and a set of pale, gangly limbs. Every time he hears a jumper who's talking to themselves, he gets in his car and speeds to the scene. Any John Doe gets announced and he arrives at the identification process.

    Usually it’s nothing. In the past ten years, only _once_ was there actually a Klaus sighting. It was an OD on the outskirts of town. The ambulance got there before him, and he heard the paramedics say he was being stabilized. He could feel the moment the vice around his heart was loosened. 

    “Do you know him?” She asked. “Would you like to ride with him?”

    Diego, looking in on his unconscious sibling, being fed oxygen through a mask because he couldn’t be trusted to stay breathing on his own, just took a shaky breath and stepped away. He couldn’t deal with another sibling’s mortality, not again. Five’s portrait and Ben’s statue and Klaus with a needle in his arm, all those terrible images swam in his mind and he stepped back and away to his car.

    “Just heard it through my radio. Wanted to check in.”

    He doesn’t stick around to see her face.

    (The next day, he tracked down the hospital where he was taken, but Klaus was already gone. Diego swallowed the regret and kept the scanner closer than ever.)

    That was years ago, though.

    Tonight, the scanner was quiet. So quiet, he debated turning on the radio so he could mop the floors of the ring in peace, without the near nothing. He decided against it and was just about to dump the water when he heard the scanner crackle to life.

    “Requesting back-up for a jumper on the bridge, looks high. A negotiator and help with crowd control, too.”

    He didn't hear anything else because he dropped the mop and ran to his car. He picked up the scanner on his way out, hearing the person on the other line -- Beaman? -- mention how the guy was talking to himself, then nothing after the confirmation was sent of back-up.

He couldn’t say that he didn’t feel any  panic when he heard about a junkie on the bridge — or well, he couldn’t say it to himself in the rearview mirror, anyway — but for awhile he was able to tell himself that it was nothing. He was just going to the bridge so he could sleep well that night and let the cops talk the poor guy down. It couldn't be Klaus, so this was just for his peace of mind.

Klaus wouldn’t jump, not when it was such a good way for him to be seen by Reginald. For all his goofs as a kid and a teen, Klaus was good at making himself gone, now. Even at Allison's wedding, a year before the OD on the outskirts, he didn't stay long enough for Diego to talk to him. Granted, Diego had also been keeping to himself that night, but still, Klaus would have sought him out, wouldn't he?

And fine, keeping to himself was his own business, Diego reasoned. Klaus knew how to get to Diego if he really wanted to, because Klaus was good at finding shit. He could stop by the station and chat with Eudora if he was really desperate, because for all Klaus would know, Diego had no reason to quit the academy. He could hear tips about a crazy vigilante who threw knives from any of the crowd he was hanging with now. Something, anything, because Diego didn’t want to accept that he really missed his last opportunity to see his brother alive that day at the ambulance. No, he had to be alive.

    _Besides, why would he want to die_ , he thought, mind spiralling into hysteria at the thought of Klaus jumping off a bridge, _he hates ghosts._

    He had to park a ways away and shoves himself through the crowd, snapping out a quick “Argyle PD associate” anytime he heard grumbling. Whatever, vigilantism had weird laws around here. Thanks dad, you're finally good for something.

    When he gets to the barricade and crosses under it, he almost gets pushed back by Beaman.

    “Sorry, Hargreeves,” he says, apologetic but firm, but Diego doesn’t hear the rest because he’s finally close enough to see the jumper sitting and swaying on the edge of the railing, just fifty feet away on an empty bridge and Diego sees a familiar mop of dark hair and a set of pale, gangly limbs.

    And with that, he’s pushing past, feeling his mouth moving to “that’s my brother,” over and over, but not hearing or even registering that he’s doing it. He’s moving but he can’t register anything but blind fucking terror as Klaus slides off the railing _—clumsily, Jesus fucking wept —_ stands on the last foot or so of concrete before the waves yawn below him and seemed to be psyching himself up to jump. Diego only remembers the feeling of the road under his boots and finally hears himself scream out: “ _Number Four_! _What_ do you think you’re _doing_?”

    Klaus reacts by holding on tighter to the railing, shoulders hitching up like whenever Reginald was telling him off. Defensive. Good. Usually he gets chatty when he’s defensive. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, and Diego forces himself still for the last ten feet.

    “I said,” in what he hoped was the best mimic of their father’s tone, the kind that got them to stop whatever they were doing, “what do you think you’re doing, Number Four?” He feels sick doing it, but it’s keeping his brother on the bridge, out of curiosity if nothing else. He vaguely remembers something along those lines in one of his classes, but granted he isn’t thinking straight right now. He also remembers that being a dick isn't the way to get someone not to die and he is suddenly realizing he has no idea how to save his brother.

    “Fuck off, Diego.” Klaus says. His voice is loud but empty, and the sentence is closed faster than any of Klaus’ sentences ever were. He’s still and quiet again and not his little brother right now.

    (He’ll carry that image with him forever. That day at the bar, it’s on his mind, too.)

    “We are _way_ past names right now, _Four_ ,” Diego says in that tone he hates, daring a step further because fuck it, Klaus can’t see him and he needs to be ready to drag his ass back onto the bridge if he tries anything. “Not when you’re about to throw everything away. If it bothers you so much, come over here and make me stop.”

    “Then fuck off, _Two,_ ” Klaus throws back, in that other tone he hates. “Been awhile since we last talked, ain’t it? How about we go back to minding our own business again?”

    And that hurts more than if Klaus would hit him right now, but Diego takes another step forward because if he backs down now he loses Klaus forever. All he can think about is finding Klaus like they found Ben, and he is suddenly hit by the fact that _Klaus was the first to find Ben_. Klaus was the first to hold onto their dead brother and was never the same since.

(Ben and Klaus, the only two siblings in their shit-show family who actually cared about each other like siblings should.)

He focuses on now. He knows what Klaus is trying to do and doubles down instead. He can play the guilt game, too.

    “Yeah? And what about Seven, huh?” Another step. “How do you think she’d feel if she learnt that _all three_ of her favourite siblings were dead? How am I supposed to tell her that?”

“You've told her much worse.” Klaus counters, but his voice gained some uncertainty, some grief, some guilt. He sees his arms pull a little closer to the railing. “Shut up,” he thinks Klaus whispers, but it's hard to tell over the roaring in his ears.

“Then you should come back here, go see her herself, because you're the last good brother she has left,” he takes another step. And it's not technically true, they were _all_ assholes. But she does love them despite it and Klaus, Ben and Five were always closer to her than Luther, Allison and Diego. Besides, he can't think about the intricacies of that and saving Klaus right now.

He sees Klaus hesitate visibly, and definitely hears a whispered, “fucks sake, can you please not mention that now?”

“No, I don't think I can, Klaus,” Diego says. “Because you're all she has left.”

Because all Diego could see was Five’s portrait and Ben’s statue and an empty bedroom for Klaus because he was good at making himself scarce. All he could see was another casket, this one cremated quicker than the others, this one’s ashes taken home by Vanya when everyone left to go back to their own lives and no one else would give a shit because…

    Klaus turns around. His eyes are bright red in the police spotlights, ringed in smudged eyeliner. Diego can’t tell if it’s from the tear tracks or the drugs, but he’s definitely glaring daggers at Diego. He gaze is piercing, like some part of him telling himself not to do it is focusing on Diego with all the anger in his body, and fuck it, _fine_ , if it takes Klaus hating him to be safe so be it.

    “I can’t stop…” Klaus starts, and Diego feels his heart rate jump before he continues. “I can’t stop seeing them. I've been sober for so long and I _hate_ it. And I hate OD’ing, I’m always…this is quicker. This is…” He snaps his head to the left suddenly. “I — shut _up_ , it’s not about you! Maybe it’s about me, huh?! Maybe _I’m_ why you’re still here!”

    Diego is confused but seizes on that. He takes another step. He could take Klaus' hand if he wants to, pull his brother into a hug and never let go. “Of course you’re why I’m still here,” he says instead, and Klaus turns his head back to him. His expression is wary. “I want you here, we _all_ do, we all love you. Vanya, Allison, Luther, all of us. Please just come back to us.” He reaches out, desperate.

Klaus looks at him tiredly for an eternity, then turns his entire body to face him. He starts to hoist himself over the railing, but his arms and legs are shaking so badly Diego reaches out and grabs his upper arms to steady him. Slowly, they get him over the railing, and Diego pulls him close without even thinking about it. He can feel his sweater getting wet and hears cheering faintly from the background and doesn't even care, just holds his brother closer because he realizes how close he was to another funeral.

“If we still lived at home, dad'd have a gasket,” Klaus chuckled wetly. And Diego knows what he's trying to do, but he's so relieved and emotionally drained that he takes the bait and laughs anyway.

 

* * *

 

The car ride is silent. Diego doesn't know where to start, what to say, what not to say. So he says nothing instead. He considers holding out his hand for Klaus to take (Ben and Klaus were always more tactile when they were upset) but he just focuses on getting home.

He gestures Klaus to the bed and he takes the couch, because he isn't even sure when the last time Klaus had a roof over his head was.

“Stay,” he says. “Please stay, we can figure out how to help you, just please don't go.”

Klaus nods.

In the morning, though, Diego smells breakfast. In the only pan he owns, sitting covered on the counter to stay warm, is a serving of eggs and two strips of bacon. Next to it is a note.

“ _Thanks anyway, D.”_

Diego wants to cry, to put a fist through the wall, to scream, to call his mom and tell her everything. He wants to track down Klaus and put him in a rehab center, before realizing he probably wouldn't change anyway. He wants to find Klaus and hold him, and make sure he hasn't decided to OD out in a back alley where it's quieter. But he can't stop looking at the note. So instead, he sits down, staring until Sal comes to tell him about his next fight.

 

* * *

 

It went unsaid at their dad's funeral, then through the apocalypse, then the first few months of them getting back on their feet, but when the day was approaching, Ben and Diego agreed to talked about That Day.

(Ben could tell it weighed on Diego's mind the day Klaus got kidnapped. He was there in the motel room after Klaus disappeared from time itself, and it was only the overwhelming grief of Patch's death that he didn't break down at losing his brother. But when he saw Klaus again, even if Patch's death wasn't healed, some part of him relaxed a little.)

Ben noticed that Klaus was twitchy sober again and that Diego still looked at him warily whenever he had off days. Truth be told, Ben did too, and this unspoken, awful memory between the three of him was driving him insane. So he planned a conversation because fuck if Klaus or Diego would actually initiate an honest discussion of their problems on their own. They were too busy evading how they actually felt to protect both others and themselves. But new timeline, new them, so he intervenes. He talks about it with Diego and they both agree it's time to open up.

It's the anniversary only him, Diego and Klaus know about. Ben grabs Klaus by the arm as soon as breakfast is over, nods to Diego to follow along because they have a plan.

They go to the doughnut shop down the road, where decades into the future and a year in the past Five wrecked shop. They sit down at a booth near the back.

“You know that was one of the worst nights of my life, right?” Ben cuts right to the chase. “Afterlife too, before you quip. I thought I was going to lose you, Klaus. I thought that I was going to see you die and that was it, for both of us.”

Klaus pushed around a pack of sugar on the table. He pressed his lips together. “I wasn't thinking, that night,” he said, slowly. “I was just hurting so much and it was on my mind for awhile by then.”

“Do we have to be worried about it happening again?” Ben asks. He grabs Klaus’ hand gently, and Klaus squeezes back gratefully.

“No,” Klaus shook his head. “I wasn't lying, it was just a rough night. I wasn't used to being sober then.”

“Good. Still, come to us next time you feel that way, okay? We love you, man.”

Klaus nods. It's a sweet moment, but they're not done yet.

“I thought you died after you left,” Diego pipes up, and Klaus looks up, ashamed. “You lied to me and left anyway. I spent the whole month wondering whether you were okay, or if you OD'd in a back alley somewhere. I missed you so much.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Me too. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you before it turned so bad. I should have left you a key or a phone number at least.”

Klaus shrugged. “Don't worry about it, Diego. It's in the past, and I'm fine now.”

“But you--” and tears are leaking out of Diego's eyes, for the first time Ben has ever seen. “You almost weren't, Klaus, and I could- I couldn't stop thinking about--”

Klaus let's go of Ben's hand. He stands and sits on Diego's side of the booth, holding his face in his own hands, forcing their older brother to look at him. “But you _were_ there, that night. That night, you came to me and pulled me back when no one else -- save Ben -- was. Diego, maybe we weren't that close before, Ben is a very hard standard of best bro-ship to live up to,” and that gets a weak giggle out of all of them, “but I'm here now, and so are you, and so is Ben. We're all alive and we get a second chance, and that has to count for something.”

Diego nods, then buries his face in Klaus’ shoulder and sobs freely. Klaus hugs him, rubbing soothing circles in his back. Ben manoeuvres around the booth and joins the hug, and for a moment the three of them are okay.

 

* * *

 

For a moment, Diego, held by two brothers he lost in different ways, is okay. From then on, he accepts the fact that he cares.

**Author's Note:**

> To the actual writer (milesawayfromthevoid),  
> I am so sorry, I was trying to delete all my fics and I hadn’t realized you had named me co-creator. As soon as I had realized what I had done I tried to fix it. I probably got the tags wrong, so you might want to fix those, I am so sorry.  
> -Kaya_mckay


End file.
